No more paying huge bills and waiting (and waiting and waiting) to be paid back. No more sharing the kitchen between three sets of people trying to make a meal at dinnertime. No more being stuck at home on a Friday night because our cars are parked outside and it's impossible to find a parking spot at night, I tell you, IMPOSSIBLE.

No more wondering where the groceries will fit because the fridge is jammed with three sets of food and things fall on you when you open the freezer door. No more leaving six packs of sodas on the floor because there's No Space Anywhere to put them. No more crappy internet because the router is upstairs and I'm downstairs. And, best of all, no more dealing with other peoples issues (like being unable to discuss a problem openly and instead write you letters and bs like that).

I can deal with peoples issues all day long at work (and trust me I do) but not at home. And that is why the only roommates I will ever have again are my hunny and my kitty. Because they deal with my issues =) Plus Paul cleans, cooks and does laundry and let's face it I'd be stupid not to want to live with him!

Another big plus is that I finally feel like I'm leaving that whole college-style-living-scene-thing. You know, the whole "roommates, having to switch off parking, people you don't know hanging out in your living room at 1 a.m., drunk college students talking loudly at 2 a.m. as they pass your window (which faces into the hallway by the way)"-thing. Our new complex seems to be mostly families and is very quiet. And we're on the fourth floor so we have a view. And basically everything about our new place is better than the old one and I love it and it rocks and I will be taking pictures shortly and did I mention I love our new apartment? =)

Bad Joyce.

I promise to start picking up the phone and stop being so anti-social (eventually).

But we are halfway moved in now and I'm LOVING the new place! Our fridge doesn't leak and is currently stocked with only nine cans of beer and a bottle of wine, as opposed to being stuffed to the brim with three sets of food.

Paul made the executive decision to abandon Taz at the old place for the night so we wouldn't have to deal with moving the kitty litter box and all the various cat accessories...not to mention the ordeal that is trying to stuff the cat into her carrier. She's gotten so big that it's really quite impossible to put her in that thing without her full cooperation, which, PFFT, yeah right.

Have I mentioned that I've been living in Apartment 13 for the past year? It may be silly but SERIOUSLY that place is bad luck. I am totally convinced that now that I'm moving out of god forsaken number 13 life will be peachy keen, I will get that great job I've been searching for, my health will improve and the world will be in perfect harmony.

Another perk of our new complex is that the laundry room never closes. Which means no more rushing to pick up laundry before the crazy old lady who manages the place locks my clothes in at 10 p.m. on the dot. There are also three big grills in the communal patio area for Paul and our apartment manager signs for packages! No more getting things shipped to work! Whee! Life is good.

On another note, I seriously need to go on a diet, which is pretty much a first for me. It's freaking me out a little bit because I'm used to fluctuating within a 10 pound range but in the last month or so this no longer seems to be the case. I'm not totally freaked out yet because I still have the "blame it on the prednisone" safety net, but when I weigh 600 pounds I don't know how comforting it will be to blame it on the medication.

This morning I noticed a funny sensation when I was making a turn in my car. It was a roll of fat that just appeared out of NOWHERE, and it was getting in the way of my bending motion. Ew. Must make appointment with personal trainer. Next week though.

Because I'm seriously too busy this week. Seriously.

I have to pack and move today and tomorrow and then Saturday morning it's off to Vegas, buffet capital of the world. Because I need to go on a diet =)

Anyway, that's what I've been up to the last few days. Not worth writing about. Keep ya posted on the job hunt.

I hate waiting.

I was one of the Bio5.

Now I know you may find this shocking, but we were not exactly part of the "in" crowd. We didn't go to parties. We didn't drink. We had study sessions during Thanksgiving break and we had a potluck, played Truth or Dare and popped a bottle Martinelli's Apple Cider at our New Year's Party (in 11th grade). My friends nagged me about my studies more than my parents did.

So needless to say, we weren't the coolest kids in school.

This brings me to the critique of the last guy who interviewed me. He said he's not sure if I have the "swagger" he's looking for. Well of course not! I'm a little asian girl who likes my glasses and pajamas and was part of the Bio5 in high school. I wasn't a jock or a "Diva" or a sorority girl. But that doesn't mean I'm not confident and can't kick some ass in my own way.

And I've decided, if he can't see that, then that's his loss.

How's that for swagger, eh?

After winning my ebay auction, the world seemed to be a better place and I realized that either way I don't have a bad job situation. Even if I don't get the good job, I have a job where I have ample freedom and free time. I can sleep in and take an extra ten or fifteen minutes on my lunch break. I can spend the day watching ebay auctions and thinking of witty things to say on my blog.

Then, just as I was starting to think maybe it would be a real tragedy if I did get the job, I was reminded (by the owner of the cafe downstairs who pointed out the letters on my sweatshirt) that I went to UCLA. And the first phone call of the morning was from a tenant who was absolutely positive the night cleaning crew was going through their recycling boxes for newspaper coupons and wanted it too stop immediately. And now I'm right back to thinking I'm going to kill myself if I have to keep dealing with this kind of bs for much longer.

I hate protracted rejections. If you don't want me just tell me and get it over with. Now I have to wait until tomorrow. Which means I should definitely put that bottle of d'Asti to good use tonight in order to prevent massive anxiety attacks and over-thinking.

The only thing that will make me happy now is a new dyson. If only I could master winning ebay auctions.

So at lunch I went to Trader Joe's for some hamburger patties (burgers for Game 7!) and I also picked up a nice big bar of chocolate and a bottle of my favorite wine to make me forget the fact that I am a reject. And I worry about the bathrooms being stocked with toilet paper for a living. DARN YOU PEOPLE FOR MAKING ME WAIT ANOTHER HOUR!

So now I have half a bar of Ritter's Milk Chocolate with Whole Hazelnuts in me and I have decided I will be content in the corner of this office, hidden behind a wall until God sees fit to put me somewhere else. It's really not so bad right? Some people would love a job where they could sit around and surf the internet all day and come and go pretty much as they pleased. I can live with it.

And I am not going to beat myself up for all the mistakes I made during the interviewing process. I'm just going to think them over rationally so I can learn from them and move on.

But this might just be the chocolate talking.

Just kidding. I am a very hard worker. Really! I just have nothing to do.

I really just want a new job so I will have more interesting things to entertain you with. Because I really don't think you want to hear about how I spent my morning wondering whether the head office will shoot itself in the foot by refusing to approve the mold remediation until after the problem has become so widespread we'll have to shut down the whole Lower Level instead of just one corridor.

Or do you?

Yeah, I didn't think so.

I don't know if I got my point across during the interview but at least I got to use the words "assertive" and "persistent" in my follow-up thank you letter.

Time to listen to some praise music and remind myself that if this doesn't work out, God has something better in store for me.

Wonderful Maker
Jeremy Camp

You spread out the skies
Over empty space
Said, "Let there be light."
And to a dark and formless world
Your light was born

You spread out Your arms
Over empty hearts
Said, "Let there be light."
And to a dark and hopeless world
Your son was born

You made the world and saw that it was good
You sent Your only son for You are good

What a wonderful maker
What a wonderful savior
How majestic Your whispers
And how humble Your love
With a strength like no other
And the heart of a father
How majestic your whispers
What a wonderful God

No eye has fully seen
How beautiful the cross
And we have only heard the faintest whispers
Of how great You are

You made the world and saw that it was good
You sent Your only son for You are good

What a wonderful maker
What a wonderful savior
How majestic your whispers
And how humble your love
With a strength like no other
And the heart of a father
How majestic Your whispers
What a wonderful God

I hate making decisions. Especially hard ones. I'm a little bit mad at Paul because he won't tell me what to do. He keeps saying this is one of those things that only I can decide for myself or something.

Being entry-level sucks.

Or maybe I make lists in an attempt to make it easier to get other people to make my decisions for me. You know, make a list, show it to people and then beg them to tell you what they would do if they were you, which is really just a veiled attempt to get people to make your important life decisions for you so that someday you can turn around and blame them for ruining your life. I would never do that though, of course. I always take full responsibility for ruining my own life =P

So anyway, back to the list. It looks like my final interview (seriously this time) is tomorrow but I talked to one of my potential managers today and she said they would want me to start ASAP. Which means, I can't take a couple months off to lollygag and travel and play with Paul until he finds a job. But more importantly, it means that they'll probably want a decision SOON and even though I'm 90% sure I want to do this, I'd like to be even more sure before I make any life-altering decisions.

Anyway, enough stalling. Here is the list.

Reasons not to quit my job:

1. I have an important sounding title.
2. I'd have to take an initial paycut and work longer hours.
3. Good coworker dynamics, also I sit behind a wall in the corner of the office and can spend the whole day picking at the ingrown hairs on my legs and no one is the wiser. Or I could study for the GRE's, CBEST, real estate test, and all the other tests I know I should take while I am still young and capable of memorizing large quantities of obscure words.

Basically, the best reason for staying with my current company is the third one. I have very little stress here and I could easily get a ton of studying done at work. But...is that what I really want?

Reasons to quit:

1. The company I work for apparently has a reputation for being a slumlord. It's impossible to "manage" a building when you don't "manage" the building's bank account.
2. Dead-end job. Not many prospects for promotions. Pay kind of sucks by industry standards.
3. Hate dealing with crap like why it's too cold in Suite 530 but too hot in Suite 540. Shoot. Me. Now.

I guess what it all comes down to is...do I want to take it easy, make sure my health is under control and "figure out" what I REALLY want to do with my life and how I'm going to get there...OR...do I want to start on a career path right now? Well? Anyone have any answers?

Are you there God? It's me, Joyce.

So it turns out I have ONE more all-important interview. Hopefully. I've talked to several people in the profession now (other than those in the company I'm interviewing for) and they all seem to really love what they do. It gives me hope. I can't deal with missing toilet paper and broken elevators and air-conditioners and mold growing in the medical building and fights over parking spots and all that stuff that can only be called bull-you-know-what. I know someone's gotta do it, but does it really have to be me? I didn't think so.

Turns out we can't move in this weekend which means we'll have to do it during the week...after we get off work. Our new building manager must think we're bored college students with nothing better to do than to move on a Tuesday.

Bah.

I am pretty bored though.

I need a more stimulating job.

Turns out you're supposed to eat three hours before you work out and not seven.

My daily devotion today was titled "Do Not Be Afraid." Final interview at lunch today. Wish me luck.

My room is a mess. Can't wait to move. Ouch. Sides hurt from those twisting sit-up things.

I have my first appointment with my personal trainer at Bally's tonight. Considering this is the first time I've "worked out" since 10th grade P.E. class...I'm afraid. Wow. I just realized 10th grade P.E. class was like seven years ago. So basically I have been a lazy bum for the last seven years, a bum who's only form of exercise has been walking to and from her office to her car to her apartment.

I have an important interview at lunchtime tomorrow. Let's all pray that this long overdue workout doesn't leave me too crippled to walk in my interview shoes (black leather pumps).

I guess I can accept that.

And after you suffer for a short time, God, who gives all
grace, will make everything right. He will make you strong and
support you and keep you from falling. He called you to share
in his glory in Christ, a glory that will continue forever.

- 1 Peter 5:10

It's me. And as usual I'm confused again. I'm not sure if I'm following you or following myself. Or if I'm just hiding behind myself. Yeah, like I said, confused.

Just to clarify, when I pray "for a sign" I mean that literally. A large billboard would be nice. Just kidding of course.

But seriously, Lord, it would be nice.

Maybe if I were more patient and more trusting in You I wouldn't constantly be praying about my job/career/lack-thereof. So if these opportunities before me are just what I think is what's best for me and not the path You have chosen for me, how about just a little sign?

In Jesus name I pray, Amen.

My friend is scheduled to vacate the premises by the end of this weekend and Paul and I should be moving in the following weekend (we hope). I think we are going to need to enlist some help because there is heavy furniture to be moved and I am extremely useless when it comes to heavy furniture. In the past, my role in the moving process has been limited to opening doors and carrying pillows and such. I have puny biceps, what can I say?

So anyway, now that the stress of finding an apartment is gone, we have other things to stress about like making sure the carpets in our current apartment are cat-litter free. And this is where you and your vacuum cleaner recommendations come in. We had wanted to get a Dyson but then we remembered we can't afford one (and besides do we really need such a powerful device to clean a studio apartment?). But we do need a relatively kickass vacuum because the fat, fuzzy thing sheds like a mofo and according to Paul, I'm not much better. Every once in awhile Paul will do a thorough scraping of the carpet with his fingers and a giant hairball the size of the cat will be plucked from the ground. (Taz usually jumps into the trash can in an attempt to eat said giant hairball). I think Paul wonders how it is the cat and I even have any hair left considering how much of it is left on the ground, stuck to our clothes, stuck to chairs, stuck to the shower wall...

I haven't written about Paul's graduation weekend yet, have I? That's right, I didn't even walk and the boy wanted a whole darn weekend dedicated to celebrating his graduation! Ah well, he deserved it =) Part of the celebration involved a sorority house party and drunken, belligerent and immature fraternity boys (hm...that's a bit redundant isn't it).

Very Drunk Frat Boy #1: *pointing to a Drunk Frat Boy #2 lying in the grass* Hey that guy is drunk, let's puke on him!

Frat Bro of Drunk #2: Why are you pointing, I'll kick your ass!

Very Drunk Frat Boy #1: *still pointing* I wanna puke on him!

This went on for quite some time with Frat Boy #1's "bros" holding him back to keep him from puking on the Drunk Frat Boy lying in the grass and starting (another) fight (the first fight of the night was apparently broken up before we arrived). One of the girls who lived in the house was obviously relishing the drama and the fact that she was allowed to put herself in the center of it since, as she kept repeating, it was her house. Instead of telling all the boys who were trying to pick fights how completely retarded they were, she validated their belligerence by trying to talk them out of fighting. Now, do you reason with a puppy that has pooped on the carpet or do you slap it across the nose and tell it "NO! BAD DOG!"

Ah, that's right, THAT'S why I took one look at the Asian Greek system and ran screaming in the other direction.

But I still haven't gotten to the best part yet! Paul's fraternity house. The backyard was filled with the pungent odor of dog feces left to pile up indiscriminately all over the lawn. And the inside? It reaked of the smell of urine. No, not just in the bathroom. Everywhere. I did not dare enter the kitchen. Nor did I use the toilet there even once despite being on the premises for several hours. I was also very uncomfortable with the fact that the bottom of my shoes were touching the carpet.

Seriously guys, how do you LIVE like that? No wonder Paul has defacto moved in with me. I think the landlord is going to have to tear the whole place down and rebuild from scratch when those guys finally move out of there.

Anyway, that was my Friday night. Spent amidst a sea of drunken college kids and fraternity alumni who still wanted to act like college kids. And since I spent Friday morning puking (no I am not pregnant, it was probably food poisoning or something) I was sober for the entire affair. Very sober. Extremely. Incredibly. Impossibly. Sober.

Oh yeah, I'm taking a poll. How many of you ladies out there would appreciate a bunch of girls calling your boyfriend "Daddy" while YOU ARE STANDING RIGHT THERE AND TOTALLY NOT INVISIBLE AT ALL. Am I the only one who's gut reaction is to punch these sluts right in the kisser? And no I don't give a flying *expletive deleted* that he was their "pledge dad" whatever that might be.

*takes a deep breath*

Okay, I'm calm.

So Saturday was the day of the big graduation ceremony. The first undergraduate graduation ceremony I have ever attended since I decided that even my own would be too boring to sit through. And he thinks he loves me more. I sat through the WHOLE graduation, and even got there an hour early to save seats for his parents, if that isn't love I don't know what is.

Of course, the graduation keynote speaker was a big flaming hippy who ended up giving a speech that should have been called a "why-everyone-here-should-buy-a-hybrid-and-give-me-your-email-address-so-I-can-spam-you-about-how-Bush's-environmental-policy-sucks-and-you-should-work-to-fight-global-warming" speech. Because a graduation speech it was not. Oh she tried to tie it in. Something about how she didn't know when she graduated that she would become a huge, global-warming, fighting hippy, but now look! And would we all please go to www.somehippywebsiteaboutglobalwarming.com?

I stayed sane through the alleged graduation speech by making snide comments to Paul's friend Alvin about how global warming was a crock of you-know-what. Luckily Paul's parents were sitting in the two seats in front of us and weren't paying attention to my ranting.

On Sunday evening we went to Paul's friend Talbot's graduation party, which also happened to be his cousin's graduation party and the 50th birthday party of some relative. Of course, not realizing that this graduation party was actually a family party I wore a slightly-too-revealing outfit and had to wear my jacket the entire night so that all of Talbot's yuppie Republican family members in kahkis and pink polo shirts (and smoking cigars, can you get more Republican than that?) wouldn't think I was some slutty hippy that crawled in off the streets. Happily, I was not the only one caught off-guard as someone else showed up in a shirt that said "Wet Dreams" and he didn't get to change out of it until after meeting Talbot's grandmother. Nice.

The guy I had my phone interview with is kind of creeping me out. He seems a little too eager to get me out there for a face to face interview. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? I told him I wasn't really feeling what the job was all about and he still wouldn't get off the phone when I told him I'd think about it and call him back. It made me feel like he was selling me something. Maybe I'm missing some fabulous opportunity by being so skeptical here but I was always under the impression that if a job is worth having it's probably pretty difficult to get. Because the employer can be choosy. Really choosy. Obnoxiously choosy. I'm not under any delusions that my background or skills are so amazing, this company feels it just must have me.

Anywho, I kept dreaming that the guy was a telemarketer and he wouldn't stop calling me. Needless to say I tossed and turned all night.

Pros: Its a pretty nice building and the unit is on the "Penthouse" (their pretentious way of saying "5th Floor"). It gets a ton of light, which I love since my current room faces the inside of the courtyard and feels like the bat cave. All new carpet, paint and the kitchen is nice. The whole area behind the complex is residential houses which means parking shouldn't be too much of a hassle (of course this is LA so who really knows). Trader Joe's/Longs/Starbucks/Albertsons within walking distance.

Cons: Expensive. No free weights in fitness center (re: Paul). No swimming pool (re: Joyce).

It looked like a creepy horror movie apartment complex where scary little girls with long black hair over their faces crawl out of TVs that aren't even plugged in. We kept on driving, appointment be damned!

Pros: They have a gorgeous, resort-style pool and waterfalls! (I didn't see the waterfalls myself but I'm told they were somewhere on the grounds). There is also a dry cleaning service which would do wonders for my wardrobe considering the Banana Republic bag full of dirty, wrinkled, dry-clean only crap sitting in my room. (This shirt is dry clean only, which means...its dirty. - Mitch Hedberg, RIP). They have the most kick-ass fitness center, complete with treadmills facing a line of TVs! Oh yeah, and the apartment was pretty nice too.

Cons: Right off the 405 near LAX. Read: major traffic jam, all day, every day. (On the other hand, cheaper cab rides to and from the airport). The unit is on the first floor in a corner of the complex shaded by trees and gets absolutely no light whatsoever. Patio faces the street so it is Very Loud when the windows/patio door is left open, which means they'll have to be shut all the time including during the Very Hot socal summer (=scary energy bills).

Pros: Very close to the Farmer's Market/The Grove and where I might possibly be working when the girl I'm filling in for comes back. Nice building and unit. Rooftop pool, small fitness center.

Cons: Parking nightmare. The closest freeway is at least 2 miles away which doesn't sound like much but it can easily eat up a half-hour of your time one way.

So after scanning through hundreds of apartment listings and creating the all-important Spreadsheet of Pertinent Information, where will Paul and I be living? NONE of those places. In fact, all my hard-work was for absolutely nothing as I receieved an email from a friend who has decided to pick up and move to Taiwan and needs to pass his lease off onto someone. Guess who that someone is? That's right, me!

It turns out all of those places we looked at are out of our budget because Paul is still unemployed and antsy about taking on such a big rent responsibility in his current financial situation. I did give it to him for not speaking up until after we had put down $100 (no-risk) deposit for Contestant #3. But it works out well because the rent we're taking over is only $820 and its only a partial lease so we'll be able to move in somewhere bigger not too far down the road.

At least that's one less thing for me to worry about. Now I can focus on finding a job I like.

It was 9:02 a.m. when I got to the Wilshire exit this morning.

There was NO traffic on my drive to work this morning. None. Zip. Nada. It was like I was in the twilight zone. The only rational conclusion to be drawn is that nobody in Los Angeles went to work today.

Mornings like this are perplexing. Where do all the cars go? How are people getting around today versus virtually every other day? Is there some kind of holiday I don't know about? Am I supposed to be at work today? So many questions...

2) Being able to hang out in the kitchen in my underwear. Okay, being able to hang out in my underwear in general.

3) A new vacuum cleaner. (We're getting a Dyson which we're hoping can handle the copius amounts of fur and hair shed by Taz and myself, respectively).

4) A fridge dedicated solely to ME! And Paul too, I guess. Also, there will be no more games of Guess What That Brown Puddle On The Bottom Shelf Of The Fridge Is.

5) Finally having enough pantry space to put all our food away.

6) No more ugly couch that's been passed around by God-only-knows-how-many-college-students. I shudder at the thought of how many different DNA samples I'm coming in contact with each time I put my butt on that thing.

7) Having enough closet space to hang up all of our clothes! At the moment most of Paul's clothes is in a lumpy pile that spills out of the closet (which means I can't slide the closet door all the way shut, which I HATE).

8) Finally having at least one permanent parking space, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year! Parking spaces are like GOLD (actually they're better than gold) here in LA for you non-LA people.

There's a ton of other stuff I could add to that list, but the gist of it is that I hate sharing my living space. And I hate dealing with things like throwing away a mango that looks like its rotting before my eyes only to be told by an unhappy roommate that he was going to eat it. I just don't wanna worry about that crap when I get home from work.

I have a phone interview this afternoon. I can't say I'm particularly excited about it but we'll see where it goes.

P.S. I completely destroyed my permalink when I was trying to fix it this morning, so let's just pretend the timestamp is still where it belongs and everything is fine and it should all be fixed by tonight.

I'm reading blogs and eating tacos at the moment. I've noticed that as of late I like to read the blogs of other bratty neurotic women with perfect significant others that put up with all the sh*t that comes along with being with a bratty neurotic woman. I'm sure Paul can sympathize.

I really don't want to go back to work. Crazy Toilet Paper Lady called this morning to yell about the crappy elevator. Which is genuinely crappy but what can I do about it? I'm just a lowly assistant manager, and I called the elevator company twice already for goodness sake. Not to mention it's not my fault that our head office can't get its act together and approve a damn elevator service contract until after our previous contract has been CANCELLED. I think my job title should be Person Who Gets Yelled At By Tenants So The Head Office Will Be Insulated From Complaints And Never Get Its Act Together. Cause that's what I really do you know.

My cat has jumped up onto the chair next to me and is propping herself up by placing her paws on my head. Is she trying to pet me? Or maybe she's saying "Hang in there momma." I have the best cat.

Now she is standing on the chair with her chest puffed out and meowing to be petted. Paul says she gets the spoiled brattiness from me. He's probably right.

I'm hoping that if I keep these two things in mind I won't get too downtrodden/discouraged/depressed/fall into the pit of despair as I kick the job hunt into full gear.

I've decided that the next company I work for must be a large one that offers good health benefits, 401k, and paid vacation (I still have yet to work at a company that offered paid vacation in the first year). I'm sick of working for these small companies that just want to squeeze every last bit of life out of you without giving you much in return. Is working for an employer that cares about its employees really so much to ask?

Bah.

3) Stop whining.

I have to keep believing that something great is going to happen.

Have I mentioned that my definition of "diet" means eating all the same crap I normally do, but just less of it? Yup, let's see how effective it is now that I'm getting to an age where my metabolism may be showing the first signs of slowing down.

I think Paul has been noticing how spoiled I've gotten lately. But I think it's really his own fault.

Him: (insert lame fraternity name here) is having a graduation party next Friday.
Me: Are we going?
Him: Yup, but can you make it from work to Riverside in time?
Me: What? You mean I have to drive there myself? You're not picking me up?
Him: I have a final on Thursday so I'm not coming back to LA.
Me: You mean YOU'RE NOT PICKING ME UP?!?
Him: You want me to drive all the way back to LA and then back to Riverside?
Me: But..but...you always do....*makes the puss-n-boots face*
Him: Okay, I'll come get you.

Yes, I know I'm a brat. God help him if we have a daughter someday.

I need to make a list of things to do before I move. I've been making a lot of lists lately. As for how much of these lists actually get done, that's another story.

And to top it all of I can't remember the last time I showered. This is starting to feel like finals week with no end in sight.

I feel as though I'm constantly telling myself things will settle down, but maybe things just don't "settle" at this age. I keep wondering when I won't be looking for a job or apartment. Hopefully the apartment thing will be taken care of within the next two weeks but the job hunt is making me blue. I know it could be worse, I could be without an income at all I suppose. But I feel like I'm just getting older and older and the "direction" you think is supposed to come with age just isn't coming. Instead you just have less and less time to figure out what direction you really should be moving in and you feel more and more desperate with every day/month/year that passes. I feel like whatever job I take next, I can't jump into it the way I did with the first two jobs because I can't keep hopping around. From fundraising, to property management, to God only knows. I have to find something I really want to do or at least find a company that doesn't totally suck.

Paul and I are set to begin the Great Apartment Hunt this weekend. I've made my little spreadsheet with all the pertinent info and this evening we are planning to drive around LA taking down numbers so I can set up appointments while I'm bored at work tomorrow.

Every June my life gets turned upside down. When will the madness end?